It's Just Love Read Online Free PDF Page A

get more
than ten miles to the gallon.
    He inched his door open, the wall so close he had to squeeze
from his seat. If he’d eaten a piece of toast for breakfast, he’d never have
made it. He sidled to the sidewalk that fronted his spot and stood for a
moment. Despite the pride he had in his luxury car, he took in the Charger.
He’d wanted a car like that in high school.
    As much a luxury to his young self as the Jag ever would have
been. More, in fact, because it was the antithesis of any vehicle his prominent
surgeon father would have approved for his scion. No, he’d received a car for
his sixteenth birthday, a sensible sedan, brand new and shiny. It was transportation,
nothing to make his heart soar like his buddy’s rusty bucket that they rebuilt
on weekends. A 1969, no, 1968 Charger, just like this one. He turned to follow
the signs to the studio only to be slammed back against his hood by a fast-moving
body.
    “Ooh, I’m sorry,” the young woman said, grasping his hand
and tugging him upright. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. You see—” She
winced. “I’ve never been on television before and I’m running late. The guy
inside asked if I had Tarot cards and I said yes, but they were in the car, and
I only had a couple of minutes because I have to get into makeup, and they had
me change to this weird outfit and I…” She bit her lip and narrowed her eyes at
him. “Are you okay?”
    He stared, stunned by her flood of words. Dressed in an
outlandish outfit of long skirts and scarves, the woman facing him looked like
some kind of a gypsy fortuneteller from a B movie. If gypsy fortunetellers had
piles of wavy, platinum-blonde hair cascading down their backs, a golden tan,
and green eyes tipped at the outer edges. A few freckles scattered on her
short, straight nose, and her full lips were glossed baby pink. She came almost
up to his shoulder.
    Captivated despite himself, he tried to remember what she’d
asked? Oh. “Yes, I’m fine.” He turned to survey the hood of his car. To
his horror, a short scratch marred the gleaming surface. Irritation suppressed
his initial enchantment. “I’ll need your insurance information, though.”
    “What?” She leaned to the right to see past him. “What for?”
    “You scratched my car.”
    Her voice held nothing but disdain. “I don’t see anything,
and I am afraid I don’t carry walking insurance.”
    He grabbed for her hand. “Feel this.” Taking her fingers, he
slid them along the mark in his paint. “See?” Despite his anger, her slim
forearms drew him, the way their hands laced together on his hood, nearly
hiding the damaged paint.
    She yanked away. “Okay, there’s a little something there,
not actually visible to the naked eye, but I didn’t do that.”
    “I beg your pardon? You knocked me down.”
    “I was coming along the sidewalk, minding my own business,
and you turned and slammed right into me.” Hands on hips, head tilted back, she
met his gaze with unapologetic daring. “You’re lucky I don’t sue!”

Chapter 4
     
    Gage opened his mouth to retort, but a young man from
Montclief’s staff arrived and hurried them both off to makeup. Unlike the
woman, he remained in the clothes he wore: an Armani suit that Geena used to
say brought out his dark hair and blue eyes. Sitting in the salon chair next to
the klutzy car destroyer, he did his best to avoid any further conflict.
    He silently rehearsed what he wanted to cover in his
appearance. In the back of his mind, a niggling concern made itself known. Why
would Montclief have him on the same show as a fortuneteller? He shrugged and
tilted his head to allow the makeup artist to dust his neck with powder.
    “What’s this show about?” At the gypsy’s question, his head
snapped upright, and he caught her glance in the wall-encompassing mirror. A
crinkle formed between her straight, blonde brows.
    He had been torn between pleasure at the national audience
and dismay at the